


Reflection

by liltwinflow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Dialogue Light, I am so sorry, I do not know what compelled me to write this, M/M, Please Don't Hate Me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 03:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liltwinflow/pseuds/liltwinflow
Summary: Tsukishima remembers until it finally sinks in.





	Reflection

 

It was cold that evening. He remembers this because it was the day they first kissed.

They were walking home after practice, jackets on, bags slung over their shoulders as they matched each other’s steps. The sky was gradually getting darker, streetlights illuminating their way home through the frosty breeze which seemed to nip viciously at their skin.

There was silence between them, which neither of the two dared to break for it was a comfortable silence. No words needed to be said.

Tsukishima had his hands in his pockets, headphones - which he would soon put on once they parted ways - around his neck, it was the only thing shielding him from the cold. (He underestimated how bitter the weather would be). Though, it wasn’t unusual for him to have his hands in his pockets. He often found himself self-conscious, what was he supposed to do with them by his side? What if they swung in an odd manner? It was better this way, to have his hands close to him, and it worked out for the best in that moment in time.

Beside him, Yamaguchi walked with his head down his scarf covering the lower half of his face. At least he had been sensible enough to predict it would be cold towards the end of the day. His hair blew softly with the wind, and his eyes squinted ever so slightly to keep it out. It was cute, thought the taller of the two somewhat thankful for the spectacles on his face protecting his own eyes from nature’s breath.

He noticed how Yamaguchi’s hands _weren’t_ in his pockets, or rather the one closest to him weren't. It hung loosely by his side, exposed and bare for the breeze to bite. Every once in a while, Yamaguchi would make a movement which suggested he was going to reach forward but never did, instead that hand would tilt upwards, extend slightly, before falling back to his side. There was a frustrated look on his face whenever he would do this, and Tsukishima couldn’t help but think that too was cute. Yet he pondered the smaller male’s actions, some part of him questioning why Yamaguchi doesn’t just reach into his pocket and hold his hands like he so desperately wants to do.

He wondered if he should call him out on it, get some fun out of teasing him a little. After all they’re long past being simply friends now, they have been for the past month. He decided against it, waiting until Yamaguchi tried again before slipping his hand out his pocket and grabbing the latter’s before he could give up once more.

Yamaguchi froze in his steps, body jerking ever so slightly at the action. His eyes flickered up to Tsukishima, surprise evident in them as though it wasn’t completely obvious what he had been trying to do this whole time. Tsukishima’s own expression remained blank, he entwined his fingers with Yamaguchi’s freezing ones, bringing both hands back into the warmth of his pocket. He knew the redness which painted Yamaguchi’s cheeks wasn’t because of the cold.

 

Part of Tsukishima was surprised that Yamaguchi didn’t question him when he continued to walk him back to his house, the shorter of the two simply sparing him a glance as if to make sure Tsukishima was aware he was still walking.

When he did speak up, it was to thank the blond for walking him home before exchanging their usual goodbyes. Tsukishima remembers the hesitant look on his face as he turned back to look him from his doorstep, eyes filled with questions he seemed to cautious to ask.

Tsukishima remembers the way Yamaguchi’s breath hitched when he stepped closer, his tall frame almost overpowering as he stood in front of his boyfriend.

He asked when Yamaguchi had gotten so shy to do the things he really wanted to around him. He told him to stop overthinking and just _do._ And when he asked him what he wanted, he swears his heart stuttered at the reply.

Because there was a redness to Yamaguchi’s cheeks, which he knew wasn’t from the cold. There was a nervous look in his eyes, and a squeak in his voice when he responded.

_I want to kiss you_

And suddenly Kei didn’t feel as confident as before, but who was he to decline such a request from his boyfriend?

Tsukishima remembers because his heart was racing, and despite the chill in the air around them – he felt hot.

Yamaguchi’s lips were soft, and as was his heart when the younger reached up and touched his lips with such a shy giddy expression on his face afterwards.

 

Kei lowers his hand, the cold surface of the bathroom sink bringing him back to earth. The cruel reality kicks in once more as memories of that day fades from the mirror, revealing his reflection once again. His eyes void of any emotion stare back at him, when did he put his glasses back on?

A call from downstairs causes him jump, hands clutching the sides of the sink tighter. It takes a moment for him to register the tap is still running, he turns it off. Dries his hands. Then exits the bathroom with a ‘tch’, the pain in his palms frees his mind from that day for a mere few seconds.

He wishes he could be freed forever.

____

ii

 

There was something _off_ about Yamaguchi, this at least he realised sooner. Tsukishima wasn’t stupid, nor was Yamaguchi discreet in his ways.

Compared to everything else, this was minor. This could be dealt with- helped. There were hints for this -  signs he could look out for and prevent anything from escalating. This at least, he didn’t regret.

It started off small and never really got any bigger, he _knows_ this because he made sure of it.

Anyone else wouldn’t have thought any different of Yamaguchi, then again no one knew the teen quite as well as Tsukishima did.

He noted everything. The way Yamaguchi would flinch when he walked into the room (and caught him in front of a mirror), the way his hands would be raised to his face as though he was inspecting something, even the small prods at parts of his body when he was getting changed. Tsukishima saw it all.

If he wasn’t doing this, then he would be avoiding mirrors completely. Tsukishima never failed to catch the look in his eyes as the younger caught a glimpse of himself in the form of a reflection, before ducking his head down and walking away.  

He was feeling insecure, Tsukishima guessed as much.

 

It was sunny that day. He remembers because of the golden glow which shone on Yamaguchi’s freckled skin as they sat in front of his full length body mirror. Yamaguchi was in front of him, between opened legs, his head tilted to the left so that Tsukishima could rest his chin on his shoulder.

They were meant to be studying, it was a routine by now, and yet their books and papers laid pushed away from reach.

As content as the teen seemed, Yamaguchi had the same look in his eyes from each time Tsukishima had caught him in front of a mirror. He stole a glance at their reflection, then quickly looked down at the arms wrapped around his middle preventing him from squirming away. There was conflict in his eyes.

Tsukishima spoke up when the silence began to grow loomingly tense, Yamaguchi jumped ever so slightly then murmured an apology when Tsukki’s eyes narrowed. Tsukishima didn’t miss the faint whine which followed when he lifted his head.

_“Tadashi”_

Surprise. That was the emotion which flashed through Yamaguchi’s eyes; he remembers this because of the pink blush which dusted over freckled cheeks upon hearing his given name. He looked beautiful.

_“Why won’t you look at yourself in mirrors any more?”_

Shock. Guilt. Embarrassment. Yamaguchi’s eyes widened, his lips parted as though words would come out - silence echoed instead. He looked away. Tsukishima waited.

And when the reply finally came, it was in the form of stammered, fragmented sentences. Then a whisper.

_Ugly._

Anger flooded his body, rattled his head. He had half a mind to register that he was hurting his boyfriend from the grip around his waist tightening, and another to stop him from shouting, but not to stop the angered sound from slipping his mouth.

Yamaguchi looked upset, he remembers because he swore to himself he’d make that expression disappear for good.

That was how he spent the rest of the day reciting things he loved about the teen, from head to toe, personality and mind. Tsukishima pointed them out, one by one, long fingers grazing a different freckle, a different limb as he complimented him wholeheartedly.

And whenever Yamaguchi would try to hide, protest or deny - Tsukishima would hush him with a light jab to the side, smiling inwardly at the squawk the teen would let out.

By the end of it, Yamaguchi was crying. He remembers because his heart ached at the sniffles he would release, then stopped at the stifled sobs which escaped as Yamaguchi tried to dry his eyes.

And when he asked _why_ he was crying, the reply he received both tugged at his heart and caused it to swell.  For Yamaguchi was smiling through the tears blurring his eyes, Yamaguchi was looking directly into the mirror.

_Gomen Tsukki, I’ve just never felt more loved._

 

It was the feeling of wetness on his hands that draws him out of his thoughts, yet another memory fades from the small glass in his palms. It takes a moment, for him to realise what the wetness is. He sees it before he feels it; the tears falling from his eyes onto the pocket mirror in front of him.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, snatching his glasses off his face to rub his eyes free from this sign of weakness. He breathes out, stands up, then opens his drawer.

The pocket mirror goes in, his eyes skim over the words he had written around the rim. It was reassurance, for when Yamaguchi couldn’t help but think he was undeserving and lesser than beauty.

Now it’s unbearable.

___

iii

 

At the time he should have been more concerned than embarrassed when Hinata came running down the corridor yelling his name. It wasn’t a common occurrence, or at least Hinata never came running down the corridor in search for _him._ That should have been the first sign that something was wrong.

Instead, Tsukishima looked away. Eyes of surrounding students making him conscious to be seen around the ginger haired idiot. He wanted to walk away, pretend he didn’t know him, and continue about his life until they made it to the gym so he could ask him ‘ _what the hell was that for?’_ Then Kageyama soon followed in tow, so close to running into Hinata as he came to a stop.

They were both panting wildly, as though they were taking part in their silly racing competitions. Tsukishima scrunched his face at the way his name sounded on Hinata’s tongue. People were still looking at them; they were in the middle of the corridor.

 _“It’s…”_ Kageyama’s voice sounded just as bad through his pants for air. He wanted to tell them to hurry up and spit it out already. _“It’s Yamaguchi.”_

He froze. His heart, his mind, his breath. _“What about him?”_ Yamaguchi was fine. He left to go to practice whilst Tsukishima spoke to their teacher. He was fine, nothing looked wrong with him this morning. He was fine, _he would tell him if he wasn’t_ -

_“He’s collapsed.”_

 

Collapsed could have meant anything. He could have fell, fainted, blacked out momentarily. It could have meant anything, it could have been harmless. Then why, he questioned, why was he running back to the gym with them? Why was his heart pounding rapidly and his mind spinning?

He almost tripped when going up the stairs, he remembers because of the way everyone turned to look at him. Fearful, anxious, sympathetic. They were blocking his view, they were blocking _Yamaguchi_.

He pushed through, ignoring the hands grabbing at his arms, ignoring the calls of his name to calm down and stay back. What did they mean back then?

Finally, he made it through. Finally, he had sight of his best friend and boyfriend.

He stopped.

The gym went silent.

It was as though they were all holding their breaths, no, it was as though the world itself stopped moving.

Yamaguchi was on the floor, convulsing, shaking. A hand fisted in his t-shirt, clutching tightly where his heart would be.

What was happening? What was going on? Yamaguchi, Yamaguchi-

 

“Tsukishima stay back”

He paused in his step, was he thinking out loud? He shook his head, eyes locked on Yamaguchi - his Yamaguchi who was stiff all over, whose eyes were closed, _who was struggling to breathe._

 

It was raining that day. He remembers because it was all he could focus on in the waiting room of the hospital to keep his mind from jumping to drastic conclusions.

There were people crying, people pacing, racing in and out. It hurt his head, played with his mind.

It rained harder when he was finally told Yamaguchi’s condition, he remembers because of the anger which boiled within him.

_I’m sorry, we are unable to identify what is wrong with him._

 

An angry sigh escapes his mouth, clenched fists striking down on the cold metal surface of the bathroom sink. It isn’t fair. This isn’t fair.

It shouldn’t have happened, he did nothing wrong. They could have done better, they could have found a reason - found a treatment. They should have tried harder goddammit! Why didn’t they try harder?

 

His fists clench tighter, the pain does nothing.

 

_Gomen, Tsukki. I didn't mean to scare you._

It was cloudy, he remembers because the song which was playing through his headphones as he walked to the hospital. It contrasted the greyness of the sky and reminded him of the brightness of Yamaguchi's smile.

It was the day Tsukishima decided he hated hospitals, especially with Yamaguchi laying in the patient bed.

 _He should be fine,_ they said. _We'll just keep him a few days to monitor him_.

He believed them, Yamaguchi believed them. They were all foolish.

 _“Shut up Yamaguchi”_ was his reply. Why should he feel sorry? No one could expect something like that, no one saw it coming. There was no explanation, he should _not_ feel sorry.

 

That day Tsukishima spent hours sat with Yamaguchi, listening to him blabber about how boring the hospital was, how he missed club and school. He wondered how Yamaguchi could be so carefree after a scare like that, how he wasn't scared.

Tsukishima listened because it was the only thing keeping him grounded, stopping his mind from wondering. He held his hand, and didn't let go even when food had come.

And when Yamaguchi ran out of things to say: Tsukishima pulled out his headphones and placed them on the younger’s head.

Although looking confused, Yamaguchi smiled as Tsukishima played the song he was listening to on the way there. Tsukishima remembers this because of the way Yamaguchi's head bopped ever so slightly to the beat of the song. He remembers because it was one of the rare times he himself smiled so brightly.

He wishes Yamaguchi had the chance to see.

 

“Dammit!”

He tugs at his hair, kicks the wall. Breathes in, then out. The image from that day fades from the mirror.

“T-Tsukishima-” He blinks, a reflection of who he's become stares back at him. It takes some seconds for Hinata's figure to show behind him, a fearful expression on his face by the doorway. There were no more annoying nicknames, he was no longer the Tsukishima people knew before.

In the school toilets he stands, memories of his boyfriend swirling through his mind.

He picks up his bag, slings it over his shoulder, and starts to walk out. Headphones were long discarded at home - it hurt to touch it, to listen to that song.

He only associates Yamaguchi with it, to listen to it now would break him down.

____

iv

 

He never really understood how people could so easily claim that someone ‘wouldn't want you to do this’ or ‘that’ Who were they to decide? No one really knows what the other is thinking, it simply became the new way of saying ‘stop doing that’. Tsukishima would scoff, hold back an eye roll, and continue about his day. It wasn't his place to argue otherwise.

But things have changed, and so has he.

He's no longer ignorant of that saying, he no longer finds fun in pissing people off. He finally understands what it means when ‘they wouldn't want you to do that’.  

Tsukishima was lucky, no one called out his ways of relief. No one told him they were sorry for what happened, or patronized him with that saying. Really, he should feel annoyed by that. They would do it for everyone else but him? Was he not worthy of their sympathy? And yet, strangely, he felt relieved. Relieved that people got the message, that he couldn't be dealing with their means of sympathy or interaction.

Then, why did he feel scared to be left alone?

Everything, _everything_ , reminds him of Yamaguchi. _Every little thing_. Yamaguchi found a way to bring joy, life, to everything in his life. He can't escape it, he can't escape Yamaguchi. The things in his room, the places they've been, even in his mind. Tsukishima is being held hostage in the torture he was left behind.

And he gets it, he gets that Yamaguchi wouldn't want this. He wouldn't want him to spend hours upon end staring at his bedroom ceiling because he can't seem to get him out of his head for all the wrong reasons, he wouldn't want him to throw away his life, stop playing volleyball and become _even more_ isolated from the world in his absence. He finally understands what they mean, and it hit him like a train.

This isn't how he wanted to find out, there was never a time he _wanted_ to find out. He didn't ask for this, nobody asked for this.

 

Returning to school was a challenge. The first time Tsukishima had tried to return, sooner rather than later, it had only proved to be an impulsive decision. His parents let him off, his brother stayed home with him. When he finally returned for real, the place felt alien. He felt exposed.

Everyone turned to look at him, whispering as though he couldn't hear what they were saying. They tried to be discreet, tried to act normal - welcome him back. The more they tried the more he wanted to shout.

He knew he was bare, he knew Yamaguchi was missing. He _knew_ his boyfriend wasn't plastered to his side, blabbering as they walked home or knocking some sense into him when he got too ignorant. He _knew_.

He was the one going through hell after all.

 

Returning to club activities was harder, practice was worse. Upon entering the gym, every set of eyes were on him- it was as though he was intruding in their safe space. Why couldn’t people stop staring?

Part of Tsukishima guessed it was because he hasn't been to practice in weeks, of course his return would be unexpected. Yet he couldn't help but feel like a stranger.

He was tired. Tired of fake smiles, strained welcome backs, the atmosphere of the gym. He hated it all.

His serves were terrible, his blocks heavy and uncoordinated. What was the point.

Yamaguchi wasn't there to praise him on his efforts, Yamaguchi wasn't there to tell him better luck next time.

Tsukishima wondered when he had grown so reliant on his boyfriend.

 

There's this saying; that you never truly appreciate what you have until it's gone.

Tsukishima remembers saying it that day.

It was sunny; as though nature didn't care for the circumstances. He hated how everyone was dressed in black, and wondered if they were sweating under the heat of the sun.

Maybe nature _was_ being considerate, maybe it was Yamaguchi's way of saying not to cry too much. Or maybe Tsukishima was thinking too deep into this and Yamaguchi was somewhere snickering at him.

He couldn't listen to Tadashi's parents speak, he couldn't watch as their families cried or their friends try to hold it together. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking.

It took Akiteru to help him stand, for Kei to finally make his way forward and say his part.

He looked up as he spoke, it didn't help to keep his tears at bay.

That day was the first time Kei openly cried.

He pondered as he spoke, how Yamaguchi never seemed to call him Kei throughout their relationship. He pondered because he'd never get the chance to ask.

He'd never get to hear his voice again.

It was then that he realised just how true that saying was; how little he showed his appreciation for Yamaguchi. He still had his whole life ahead of him, Tsukishima still had things he wanted to do- wanted to tell him. The words he still wanted to tell him were shaking inside him;

Why did this have to be the way he told him?

 

The mirror cracks: shards threatening to fall as cruel reality hits.

The pain does nothing. It never does.

He chokes back a frustrated sob; aggressively turns the mirror around.

Blurry eyes make it hard to see the words that appeared on the glass.

 

He remembers all these things because Yamaguchi was gone.

And it's finally sunk in.

 

_Sorry Kei, I love you._

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far I am sorry.
> 
> Thank you Eri for the ship + suggestion! Also lots of love to my gc and everyone who's been excited for this <3
> 
> ALSO CHECK OUT GEM'S BEAUTIFUL ART FOR THIS, GIVE HER SOME LOVE. (https://twitter.com/emxeruza/status/1107807390664179712)


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